Moment of Truth
by Shahrazad63
Summary: Probably my most original story, taking place after the wedding and the honeymoon... AU, because in this version the wedding takes place about one year before the Anschluss. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**THERE MUST HAVE BEEN A MOMENT OF TRUTH**

_**A/N: This is the beginning of my version of what happens after the wedding. It´s AU, because in this one the wedding takes place about one year before the Anschluss. Maria is adjusting to her married life in Salzburg, and not everything is as easy as it seems.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own "The Sound of Music", nor any of the other works mentioned in this story.**_

_**Chapter I**_

**_You, you only, exist._**_**  
**_**_We pass away, till at last,_**_**  
**_**_our passing is so immense_**_**  
**_**_that you arise: beautiful moment,_**_**  
**_**_in all your suddenness,_**_**  
**_**_arising in love, or enchanted_**_**  
**_**_in the contraction of work._**__**_To you I belong, however time may_**_**  
**_**_wear me away. From you to you_**_**  
**_**_I go commanded. In between_**_**  
**_**_the garland is hanging in chance; but if you_**_**  
**_**_take it up and up and up: look:_**_**  
**_**_all becomes festival!_**__**_Rainer Maria Rilke _**

_**The greatest enemy of any one of our truths may be the rest of our truths.**_

_**William James**_

_**Truth is a great flirt.**_

_**Franz Liszt**_

_Tyrolean Alps – Spring – late 1930´s_

The scenery was too breathtaking to belong to a world of mere mortals, even blessed ones such as Georg and Maria von Trapp. The Captain believed he had seen too many magnificent landscapes in his life, in all four corners of the world to be impressed by trees, lakes and mountains. "_Seen one, seen them all_," he had said once, cynically, to Elsa von Schraeder while he was showing off his villa in the outskirts of Salzburg. Nonetheless, even Aigen, in all its beauty, could be compared to this. The first sight of Maria's childhood home caught him completely by surprise. No wonder she once craved the peace and the beauty she could only find on top of a mountain.

He gazed at her, standing next to him, equally breathtaking in another one of her blue dresses – this one made of soft wool, suitable to the cool early spring temperatures. She did not seem impressed by the majestic sight in front of them, which would be only natural, at first glance, because she had lived practically half of her life in those surroundings and God knows what kind of painful memories she carried from that place. What troubled him the most was that he could hardly read the expression in her face. She had withdrawn to a place where he could not longer reach her – although he would certainly try.

"_Maybe I shouldn't have done this to her… to us,_" he thought.

Maybe it was still too early, no matter that in the end she had been the one to suggest that they came here. Maybe she had been right when she had angrily accused him of prodding in her life, of interfering in matters that were none of his concern.

Maria had always been too private about her past - almost secretive. Understanding the complexities of her personality became a challenge to him, since her reluctance to talk about herself was a startling contrast to her usually effervescent ways. His questions about her childhood and early youth were usually answered monosyllabically, or sometimes not even answered, for she would abruptly change the subject. After only a few attempts, he decided that it was best not to insist.

Nevertheless, stubborn as he had always been, he refused to admit defeat. He used some of his resources to do some research of his own, but the results had been frustrating, to say the least. Maria's foster parents – the aunt and uncle she lived with after her mother died – had passed away only a few months after she was admitted to Nonnberg Abbey, and all that was left of them was the run down farm where they were now and their graves in the nearby village. Apparently, they always led a reclusive life, and had left no children, nor other living relatives other than Maria. The farmland was completely abandoned, and in a sad state of neglect, in a staggering contrast with the majestic mountains surrounding them. There were also so many debts attached to it that Georg believed an average Austrian citizen wouldn't be able to pay them with his lifetime earnings.

Without saying a word to his wife or anyone else, he paid all the pending debts and bought the property. It had not been an impulsive decision, but a very calculated one. His motives were not only sentimental, but practical as well. For months now, he had been preparing for the inevitability of the Anschluss, to keep his family safe from the nightmare that it would mean if it indeed happened. He had been wiring money out of the country, to trusted banks in Switzerland and England. But he would also need a hiding place if he was forced to leave the Aigen property, at least temporarily. The farm was located high in the Tyrolean Alps, close to the Swiss Border. It was also very remote and isolated. Georg doubted that even the Nazis would bother with such a place of little or no strategic interest. If they did, they could easily escape to Switzerland or to Italy, on foot if necessary. It was the safest place he could think of, at least until he could find a way for them all to escape Europe, in case his worst fears came true. He kept the business arrangement a secret from everybody, because it was crucial to the safety of his family. Until the day he decided to tell Maria about it.

It was worse than an icy cold shower in the middle of the winter. After he gave her the news, she was so upset that they had their first real fight since their marriage.

"How could you do this without even asking me? How could you, look into my past like that? What were you hoping to find? _Inconsistencies in my family tree?_"

"Yes, it was wrong of me, and I ask you to forgive me, but I didn't do it for the reasons you may believe."

She had merely stomped her foot on the ground, casting him a disbelieving glance. This was Maria at her worst, and he took a deep breath before continuing.

"It never mattered to me where you came from. As for any _inconsistencies_, as you so delicately call them, I must say to you I have one or two serious doubts about my own family tree, so I would be the last man on earth to judge you for something of the sort."

Her expression did not soften a bit.

"_Nothing_ happened in my life before I met you, Georg. _Nothing. _It just wasn't as eventful and noteworthy as yours. Why can't you just accept that? I did not circle the world fighting enemies underwater, I never even left Austria. I was just a mountain girl who one day decided that she should be a nun, there was all there was to it. Why did you do it?"

"You… you helped me to banish my ghosts, my love, the least I can do for you is to help you get rid of yours too."

At first he believed she had been touched by his words, but if she was, she did not make things any easier for him. She would not listen to him, and showed him a side of her he hadn't even known existed. He always knew Maria had a strong personality and that she could hardly be described as a meek, submissive wife. What could hardly imagine that she was able to throw a tantrum, let alone such a spectacular one – with him in the uncomfortable position of the target. After her anger subsided, she closed herself, and he was having a hard time trying to reach her again. It was frightening. That had happened three weeks ago, and things were strained between them ever since.

Naturally he knew that there were other things that were upsetting her, and most probably, to have him investigating her past and buying her childhood home without her knowledge had only been the last drop. The complex tasks involved in the running of an aristocratic household were taking their toll on Maria, although he tried to help her as much as he possibly could. Not only she was having some trouble earning the respect of the other servants, and whenever she tried to change some pre-established rule, she would hear the inevitable "_Oh, but that is not how the Baroness did it!_" She was still leaning to deal with those hurtful, albeit well intentioned comments and was making slow, but sure progress with her household woes. That gave him the illusion that, as troublesome as they were, it was not the main source of her worries.

No, something else occupied most of her thoughts and it was very clear what it was: after nearly nine months into their marriage, Maria had not yet conceived.

The first month, still in Paris, the news that she was not pregnant came as a relief to both of them. They had been so caught up in each other and in their newly discovered passion that they had not even stopped to discuss the subject until they realized they had not created their first child in the first days of they honeymoon. After that, they decided that no matter how much they wanted to have a baby together, it would be better for the safety of everyone involved that if they waited until Austria's political situation was more clearly defined. Bringing a new life into the world in such brutal times might not be the wisest thing to do. The last thing he wanted was to have to run away and become a war refugee, carrying a pregnant wife and seven children along with him.

It would have been easy to live by that decision and take the necessary precautions, _if they only could keep their hands off each other_ for at least a few days! The skeptical side of his brain - still very much alive in spite of the inner peace Maria's love brought him - had somehow believed that after a few months, although their love for each other would be there, strong as ever, the passion, the physical need would have diminished, and it would be easier for them at least to control themselves for a few days each month. It had happened more or less like that with Agathe.

But he should have learned that nothing with Maria would be the same as it ever was before in his life. Their courtship had been unusual, their marriage unique. He should have expected that the most intimate aspects of his marriage would not be any different. The first month when they had to abstain for a few days had been sheer torture for both of them. The second was even worse, and they vowed they would never want to live through the experience again. Life was just too short – Maria's words, not his, although he earnestly agreed.

After two months, the news that Maria was not yet pregnant came with the first snowfall. It was when, for the first time, he detected a glimmer of disappointment deep in her eyes when she gave him the news, something that she did her best to hide from him.

"Don't worry, darling. At the rate we are going, I am quite sure you'll be expecting by Christmas," he reassured her.

Christmas came and went, and Maria was not pregnant yet. And they would both be just fine with it in the end if everyone else did not begin to talk about it: the servants, his friends and family and even the nuns in the convent whenever he accompanied Maria to a visit. After all, with seven children from a previous marriage, it was only natural that the second one, to a woman nearly twenty years younger than he was, should in theory produce an equally impressive offspring.

Sometimes their inquiries were discreet and veiled:

"_Didn't Agathe get pregnant with Liesl during your honeymoon, Georg?"_

"_Did you hear about Pauline Eberfeld? She got married only days before Christmas and she is expecting already. What a true blessing!"_

Others attempted a more vehement approach.

"_You are not doing anything you should not be doing, are you __Baroness?"_

The question was asked in an accusatory tone by one of the elderly nuns of Nonnberg Abbey – Sister Augusta was her name.

Maria became deadly pale, and for the first and only time in his life he had felt the irresistible urge to punch a religious woman in the face. What the old nun meant was obvious – she suspected that he and Maria were using unnatural methods to avoid children, something that would be completely unacceptable for a Catholic, according to the nun's strict views about the subject. His one defense was to utter a shocking response to the interfering nun.

"I can assure you that the Baroness and I are doing everything just right! Now, if you have any suggestions about what we should do, how and when do it, we would be happy to hear…."

Sister Augusta left them alone, with an outraged moan, crossing herself as she left. Maria had refused to return to the Abbey ever since, vowing that she would not go back there until she was eighteen months pregnant and looking like a whale.

Thankfully, she had been spared of another even more embarrassing situation. He had taken her shopping in downtown Salzburg one day, and while Maria tried a new dress, he overheard a conversation by two other women, one of which had attended their wedding.

"_The poor__ girl, the new Baroness von Trapp! I do pity her, you know. The Captain married her, all right – God knows how much those seven children needed a mother. But I wager that he never forget the other one – now _she_ was a real lady. It will be one year in September, and no baby yet!"_

"_Well, she was practically a nun before they married. I wouldn't be surprised if the marriage was not even consummated,_" another costumer chimed in.

"_Oh, I had completely forgotten about that!"_ The woman giggled. "_The girl probably just lies there as stiff as a board while the Captain tried to …_"

That was the last drop – he interrupted, making his presence known and thus giving both women the shock of their lives. It had been the only satisfying thing about the awful scene. When Maria emerged from the dressing room, looking absolutely lovely in a dark blue tailored suit, the two old crones were long gone.

It was unbelievable! Utterly unacceptable!

First people talked because they _thought_ that he had seduced the innocent governess of his children and had only married her for that reason. Now they talked because after all those months without adding a baby to the family, they believed Maria was still as pure and unblemished as the lilies she carried with her as her wedding bouquet. Before they came close to branding her as a wanton, now she was frigid.

It was maddening!

The episode upset him so much that he mentioned it to his personal friend and family physician. Herr Dr. Wolfgang Thürmann sat quietly in his study while he paced around the room, fuming, venting about the inconsistency of society's gossipers in a vicious, sarcastic tone, permeated with his dark sense of humor.

"O-ho, but they _forgot_ that I seduced her _before_ the wedding, didn't I? I waited before the children were in bed and completely ignore the presence of my fiancée at the time in the house. I used to go to her room and have my way with her whenever I wanted to. That is what they would say about us less than one year ago."

"Did you?" the doctor asked calmly after he finished his heated speech.

"Did I what?"

"Sleep with Maria before the wedding!"

Georg cast him a murderous glance.

"Of course I did not!" he yelled. "Of all the absurdities anyone could say about us, that is the most ridiculous …"

"My dear friend!"

For a moment, Georg thought that was all he would say, as the man began the meticulous process of cleaning the lenses of his spectacles with a pristine white handkerchief he retrieved from his pocket.

"Let us return to the source of the problem."

"There _is_ no problem, Wolfgang! Not with me or Maria."

"At least you are right about that one. From what you told me I see no reason to believe that there is anything wrong with your wife. Or you, although you should do something about that temper of yours."

"Wolfgang," he began in a warning tone, but the man silenced him with a calming gesture.

"Georg! You should also know that medicine has evolved and now we are just beginning to understand how much the mind can affect the body, in ways that appear to be inexplicable at times. Your Maria, for instance – in just a few weeks she went from a bride of the Church to _your_ bride, with everything that it implied."

"Yes, but she dealt with it beautifully!"

"Allow me to finish. The whole process may have been harder for her than she ever realized… or you! However, there are a few things that you could do to help…" It was nothing that Georg had not guessed before, but being offered practical, medical advice about what to do to aid conception was unprecedented for him, since he never faced a similar problem in his previous marriage.

And then, two days ago, there had been the little episode in Hans and Peggy Schneider's antique shop (1).

He somehow had coaxed Maria in to accompanying him downtown that day. It was actually the first time since the argument about the farm when they managed to be alone and talk without arguing, the first time in weeks he was actually able to breathe a little easier. Yet, the tension between them was still noticeable to anyone, most especially their closest friends. His own dark, brooding expression was back, and Maria was not smiling and talking as often as she used to. What was strange was the fact that Peggy made no comment about it as soon as they entered the crammed shop in the Getreidegasse.

"What the hell is wrong with both of you?" the Irishwoman asked boldly, as soon as she set her piercing green eyes upon them.

"Nothing!" he and Maria answered at the same time.

"_Nothing_ my foot. I haven't seen you both so tense and ready to jump at each other's throats since the first time you brought Maria here, months before you were even engaged! What is the matter?" She turned to Maria. Softening her tone, she asked playfully. "Please don't tell me that he has been acting so beastly with you lately that you are not considering going back to that Abbey of yours. Are you?"

He could tall that Maria was making her best effort to laugh, but the result was only an apologetic sad smile.

"According to some people, she had never really _left_ the convent," he muttered ironically under his breath, only to curse inwardly because he felt Maria stiffen next to him.

"What so you mean?" Hans asked sharply, joining his wife.

"Nothing, Hans. There is nothing to worry about. We are fine, the children are fine. We are just a little tired, and frankly, a lot worried. You _have_ been reading the newspapers lately, haven't you?"

"Mmmm…" Frau Schneider scowled at him, but made no further comment. She did leave him alone, but she began watching Maria like a hawk after that, while she walked around the cramped little antique shop, picking up one item or another but gazing at the objects with little or no interest.

"Maria… would you do me a favor, dear?" she said to Maria. He raised his eyes from a book Hans had brought him – a new item in his notorious collection – and began watching the scene intently.

"Yes?"

"Could you just… walk over here?"

"Erhm – _walk_?" Maria's frown deepened.

"Yes, darling. Just a little walk, one foot after another, as simple as that. There is something I need to see. Please?"

Maria frowned, and stole a quick, quizzical glance at him. One of their usual silent conversations - he replied with a shrug of his shoulders and a little smirk, as if saying: "_It's Peggy Schneider, darling, just humor her otherwise she will not leave you alone until you do!_"

"All right!" Shrugging, Maria walked the few steps that separated her from Peggy Schneider.

"Mmmmm," the Irishwoman muttered, one hand scratching her head.

"Peggy!" her husband warned. "I know what you are doing, and I don't like it one bit. You heard what the Captain said. Leave Baroness von Trapp alone!"

As usual, Hans's warnings were completely ignored.

"All right then. You can walk back now, darling."

"Fine," Maria said, rolling her eyes in amusement. Later, she told him that she thought Peggy was about to present her another outlandish costume for her to try on, and only wanted to check her figure to see if it would fit her.

It turned out to be a very wrong assumption of her part.

"Ha-hah!" Peggy exclaimed, turning around to face him. "So that is what you are keeping from me. You should know better, Georg – I always guess those things, and I am always right. I knew it. I was never wrong before, and this time should be no different."

"Uh – you knew what, Peggy?" Georg asked, while Maria was again busy, interested in miniature porcelain statue.

"I knew the moment both of you walked in here, I knew the moment I laid my eyes upon your wife, _Captain_."

"Peggy, don't do it!" Hans warned again.

Frau Schneider then turned to Maria, pointed a finger to her and abruptly announced.

"You, my dear, are _pregnant_!"

"I'm _whaaaaat_?"

The precious porcelain miniature fell from his wife's hands, and the crashing noise it made when it broke was the only sound heard in the room for the next embarrassing moments. Maria was rendered absolutely speechless, her face became as white as a ghost.

_He_ was speechless.

It all became hectic after that.

Maria's deadly parlor scared him out of his wits. He ran to her because he feared she would collapse, all the while barely conscious of Hans giving Peggy a piece of his mind for being unforgivably forward and meddling again.

"Uuhhh – me and my big old mouth. That was uncalled for. I guess they didn't know it themselves, did they?" Peggy said.

"Of course they didn't know it!" Hans bellowed. "Just look at them! Do they look like a couple who knew they were going to have a child?"

Maria did not collapse, did not faint or swoon. She held her ground beautifully, her distress entirely focused on the broken porcelain figure.

"How clumsy of me, look at what I have done!" she exclaimed.

"Do not trouble yourself with that now, my love. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she smiled. "I was just caught by surprise, that is all. It is not something that you… ehrm… that you hear every day…."

He did not have the heart to tell Maria at that moment that Peggy was indeed most probably right – the Irishwoman had guessed that Agathe was pregnant of five out of his seven children. His wife was much too distraught, and, quite frankly, so was he. Could he have missed the obvious signs? If he had, he would never be able to forgive himself. He had been through that _seven_ times – eight if he counted one of Agathe´s pregnancies which had unfortunately ended in a miscarriage. Of course the tension between then had not helped at all, blinding him for everything else. He experience a violent rush of feelings, just like it happened when Agathe told him that she was expecting Liesl, only stronger, at the thought of Maria carrying his baby. Every moment they spent together, ever since he saw her for the first time, flashed before his eyes in a maddening speed.

After they left the antique shop in the Getreidegasse, they walked in silence, hand in hand, for a while. He decided to break the silence.

"Maria, are you…"

"Oohhhhh," she moaned impatiently. "If you ask me again if I am all right, I swear I will…" His laughter drowned the rest of her words. There was some color in her face and his relief was so great that he wanted to shout.

"At least I'm glad to see your old temper back!"

"It was about time, wasn't it?"

"It most certainly was. I missed it terribly. Are you…"

"I'm fine!"

"Do you think Peggy might be right?" he prodded – he just could not help himself.

Her expressive face went from aggravated to serious again. "I don't know… Do you?"

"It is not _impossible_. We've been at each other's throats during the day lately, but at night… well, you know what we've been doing in the middle of the night," he teased, wondering how was it possible that after knowing Maria for nearly one year, he still had the power to make her blush.

"Has she ever said anything like that before?"

"You mean inappropriate? Entirely vexatious? O-ho, constantly! You should know her better by now."

"No, no that. Can she really tell a woman is carrying a baby just the way she _walks_?"

"She says it's the Irish witch in her, she can't help it."

"Was she ever right before?"

"What do you think?" he winked. "She did guess that we were both in love with each other before any of us knew it, didn't she?"

"That was different. It was all too obvious."

"Was it?"

"Ooohhh…."

He sighed. "Their names are Louisa, Brigitta, Kurt, Marta and Gretl. The only reason why she did not guess about Liesl and Friedrich before we had the chance to tell her first was because by the time she saw Agathe, both pregnancies were more than obvious. It never came as a shock before because although she did not know what was happening, _we_ certainly knew already. This time she caught me completely off guard, I must say that!"

"Oh dear! But… but I don't feel anything. I am not sick in the mornings, I am never dizzy, I do not have strange cravings… And no, don't look at me like that, there is nothing strange about Schnitzel with Noodles!" He laughed. "I am just more tired than usual, but that is from learning how to run a household properly and dealing seven children and a stubborn sea captain at the same time. Ooohhh… What should we do now? I have no idea what to do."

"Maria?"

"Mmmm?"

"My good friend, Dr. Thürmann, lives just half a block from here. If you want to, we can go there, I am sure he will see us. If you are, we'll know right away, if you are not, we can start to find out why."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I know I should listen to you this time, but I happen to know a few things too - it might be too early," she said. "I don't feel any different and I think I am not even late yet!"

He nodded and did not insist. "Do you promise me you'll tell me if _anything_ happens. Anything at all?"

"You know I will. I would not dream of keeping such a thing from you."

"Do you know what I think we should do while we wait?" he asked when an idea suddenly hit him. He only wished the thought had occurred to him sooner.

"What?"

"We could – uh - get away for a few days. Just the two of us."

That did it. For the first time in two weeks, he saw stars shining in Maria's eyes again. She stopped in the middle of the street and looked at up at him, wonderingly.

"Really? Do you think we could?"

"Yes, we could and we most certainly should. I think it is about time we have some time to ourselves again, don't you? After everything that's been happening - the threat of the Anschluss, me meddling into your past – and now this. We have not been completely alone since the honeymoon. How would you…" his lips slowly curved into a smile, "… like to finally see the ocean?"

Impulsively, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fully in the mouth. He made no motion to stop her – in fact, he wanted to grin like a silly teenage boy. Maria hadn't touched him spontaneously like that ever since their argument, and although it had been only a couple of weeks ago, he missed her open displays of affection. His aversion to such demonstrations was momentarily forgotten and he kissed her back in broad daylight, in Salzburg's busiest streets.

"I'm sorry, I forgot myself again," she said, breaking their brief kiss and stepping away from him quickly.

"It´s all right, darling. I wouldn´t dream of holding it against you this time." He brought her closer again, keeping her by his side with one arm firmly wrapped around her waist.

"The children…"

"The children will be fine, as usual. They'll understand. As a matter of fact I think they may need some time from us too," he grinned. "Things have been hectic lately, haven't they? You are exhausted. In fact, that might have been what gave Frau Schneider the impression that you are expecting."

"Do you really think so?" His wife was visibly torn between excitement and relief after he said that. He leaned towards her, kissing the frown in her face.

"It could be, but I don't want you to fret over it! As you so wisely suggested, let us wait a few days to find out, shall we? After we return from… wherever we are going, we'll know what to do."

"I realize that it is not exactly on the way to the Adriatic, but before you take me to the sea… I would like to see the farm!"

His wife would never loose that uncanny talent she had of completely taking him aback at the most unexpected moments. He stopped walking again, and his hold on her hands tightened.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"That place made me what I am today. I need to be the one to show it to you."

He patted her hand. "Then it's settled – we'll do it. Now, what if we walk across the river and have lunch at the Sacher Hotel? To celebrate."

"Celebrate? But we are not even sure yet. What if…"

"There are other things we need to celebrate today, don't you think?"

"I agree, wholeheartedly. I think that it was fighting you that had me so exhausted. You have no idea how tiring you can be when you act like an abominable beast, as Peggy described you."

"Ah ha! Peggy did not call me an abominable beast, darling. You _did_!" She wrinkled her nose at him, and he tapped her nose, playfully.

"Do you mind if we stopped at the Cathedral for a few moments before we go?" she asked, uncertainly.

"Certainly not, but… what are you frowning about now?" he asked abruptly.

"I was just wondering that I'll probably have to spend half of the night packing!" She scratched her head. "I have no idea what to wear on a boat, you have got to help me with that!"

He chuckled. "You are planning to spend the night _packing_, Baroness?"

"I said _half _the night." She stomped one foot on the ground, like she usually did when she wanted to make a point with him. "Georg, I'm serious!"

"O-ho, I would not worry so much about our clothes if I were you. I am planning to keep you naked most of the time," he winked, grinning wickedly at her.

An elderly woman on her way to church snorted when she heard him saying that. The sound of Maria's laughter echoed in Salzburg's busy streets. She had not laughed like that in weeks, and the sound was more beautiful to him than the best music he had ever been able to play.

While Maria said her silent prayers in the Salzburg's Dom, Georg made a few promises of his own. The last important of them all he carried away with perfection that same afternoon.

He made Maria fall in love with him all over again that day.

He acted like the perfect gentleman, only to make her laugh unexpectedly because of some outrageous comment. He flirted shamelessly with her, as if she were a woman he wanted to win over, and not his wife of nine months already.

It was raining heavily by the time they left the Sacher Hotel. The drive had been silent at first, since both of them were still digesting Peggy's words.

"Maria, I asked you not to torment yourself about it, darling," he started. "Whether she is right or not, it worrying won't do either of us any good."

"Are you trying to tell me you were _not_ thinking about it ever since we left? Because if you are, I won't believe you. You had that certain brooding look in your face and I know very well what it means, _Captain_."

"_Touché_! As usual, you hit your mark with incredible accuracy, _Fräulein_!"

"I just wish I could _feel_ something. I always thought I would _know_. Well, I just don't!"

His grip on the wheel tightened. "Actually, I think that you have been feeling _too_ many things lately and that just might be the problem."

"I don't know… Georg, do you know how many pregnant women I have been around in my entire life?"

"Living in Nonnberg?" He snickered. "Unless the lifestyle of your average Benedictine nun has changed drastically over the past ten years… not too many!"

"_Two_!"

His eyebrows raised in astonishment. "Two?"

"Oh, yes. One was my aunt, when I was a child – she used to feel so terrible most of the time. She was sick all day, not only in the mornings. In fact, she hardly ever got up from the bed. She lost the baby after only a few weeks…" Her voice trailed down, and she took a deep breath before continuing – this time telling him of a happier memory. "The other one was a woman who rang the bell at Nonnberg in the middle of the night two winters ago. She was in labor, and the nuns did not have a clue about what to do. They woke me up, because they knew I grew up in a farm. I argued that all I ever saw were a few animals giving birth, not people, but Sister Berthe only said "_just pretend she is a horse_"." Maria finished the phrase mimicking the nun's sour tone and he laughed.

"What did you do?"

"I followed her advice and everything turned out just fine. It was a poor baby girl, but the woman decided right away to name the poor little thing _Berthe_."

The rain became heavier, and he could hardly see the road in front of them, even with the windshield running at maximum speed. When he opened the window on his side to try to see better, he was greeted with a gush of water.

"It's no use," he said, removing his hat and raking his fingers through his wet hair. "If we go on we'll probably be stuck somewhere. We are much too close to the river, and if it starts flooding, we can find ourselves in trouble."

He did not give Maria any time to worry about their predicament. Making a quick turn to the left, he drove the car to a shaded road, bordered with tall, thick trees that kept the worst of the rain from reaching them.

"We'll wait here until it stops. You see," he began, pointing to the distance, "it shouldn't take long, the horizon is clear…" He turned off the engine and looked at her.

No woman in the world had a more expressive face than Maria. Slowly, he was learning the intimate meaning behind every subtle change in her eyes, things that only he knew about her. There was no mistaking what was her message to him now.

"Yes, darling?" he asked – she might have spoken his name or not, he was never sure. If she had, it was a mere whisper, drowned by the sound of the rain against the roof of the car.

"I love you," she said slowly, the meaning of the words magnified one hundred fold because she was still too shy to say them very often.

Leaning forward, he kissed her. Her lips quivered slightly beneath his and he pulled back immediately to look at her again. She wasn't crying, as he feared she might be, but the white-hot light in her eyes burned even brighter.

It would be crazy, unthinkable – and yet, utterly impossible to resist. They were in a public road, less than a mile from home, but the heavily falling rain, and the trees surrounding them gave them the illusion that they were completely isolated from the rest of the world in a warm cocoon. There was not a soul in sight, and most surely there would not be until the storm was over. They were as alone as they could possibly be.

"Maria?" he spoke softly, questioningly, even knowing only too well what she wanted.

"Make love to me."

He did.

Two days later, they left for Tyrol.

_A/N: (1) "Treasures"._


	2. Chapter 2

**MOMENT OF TRUTH**

_**A/N: As it happens in most chapters of this story, lots of flashbacks in this one. I hope that did not make it too confusing. My thanks to my friends at my fan fiction forum for their helpful comments, and for inspiring me to go on. Enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: See previous chapters.**_

**Chapter I****I**

**_Again and again, however we know the landscape of love_**_**  
**_**_and the little churchyard there, with its sorrowing names,_**_**  
**_**_and the frighteningly silent abyss into which the others_**_**  
**_**_fall: again and again the two of us walk out together_**_**  
**_**_under the ancient trees, lie down again and again_**_**  
**_**_among the flowers, face to face with the sky._**

**_Rainer Maria Rilke _**

_**Memory... is the diary that we all carry about with us.  
**_

_**Oscar Wilde**_

An excerpt from Maria's diary…

"_This can't be happening to me!"_

_Those were the first words I said to Georg after he kissed me for the first time in the gazebo. I shall never forget them. There are times when I still cannot believe what is happening to me. It is silly and embarrassing, I know. I am Baroness von Trapp, I am a mother of seven! I should not blush like the girl fresh from the convent I was when he married me whenever he looked at me intensely, or whispered something outrageous in my ear. Yet, I do! The trouble is that my husband had the unique talent of sweeping me off my feet in the most unexpected moments._

_This afternoon, for instance, after… our unscheduled stop during our return from Salzburg._

_One hour later,__ when we were finally able to continue our journey back home, Georg parked the car in the patio of the villa. The rain had stopped now and in the sky, towards the Untersberg, a beautiful rainbow could be seen. It had me mesmerized for a while, since I always believed, ever since I was a child, that rainbows carried good omens. _

"_Why did you stop here?" I asked him, when I finally noticed that we were not inside the garage. Georg glanced at me, and noting the quizzical look in my face, he smiled._

"_This is closer to the door, darling, in case we have to make a… quick entrance!"_

_I nodded towards him, and hastily left the car. He really thought about everything, and it was sometimes annoying how he had that knack of being right all the time… No, not all the time, just most of the times… Well, sometimes. Considering our state, this time, at least, he was right. We really needed to run to privacy before anyone spotted us. _

_After a bout of intense lovemaking in the car, __we did not look exactly – oh well, as distinguished as members of Austrian aristocracy should look at all times. I could almost picture generations of von Trapps rolling in their graves at the very sight of us. Although we had done the best we possibly could to rearrange ourselves before continuing their journey home, to anyone who had experienced just a little passion in life, it was entirely too obvious what we had been doing only moments before._

_As my beloved husband __would inform me later, I looked thoroughly and properly… ravished (although "ravished" wasn't exactly the term he applied). Naturally, he chose to ignore the fact that it had been I who had done most of the ravishing. My lips were reddened and swollen, and there was a very visible love mark in my neck. To add to all that, a very essential piece of my underwear was missing – I could not find it anywhere inside the car. Georg did not look more decently composed himself, although his own underwear was very much in place. Rather than that, he looked like a depraved sailor who just had his way with his woman under the docks… not that I knew how a depraved sailor – or even a dock - would look like, but after being married to Captain Georg von Trapp for nine months, I had a very good idea._

_When he joined __me, he leaned down for one last kiss. I felt my lips melt under his and that was the first clue I had that in spite of everything that had happened, we were both far from being sated. At least, I was. I could not help moaning in protest when he raised his head. To my relief, he seemed to understand the true nature of my current predicament – the hand that was resting in the small of my back slowly traveled up to my nape, and his fingers were…_

"_Georg!" I gasped, as my knees threatened to give way under me. He smiled wickedly at me, the rascal. Oh, the rest was all there too, at the same time – the goose bumps, the butterflies in my stomach… He knew what he did to me when he touched me in that particular manner! Trying to keep a straight face and my feet down to earth as they should be at that moment, I kept my eyes in the knot of its tie. _

"_It is still crooked," I observed, clearing my throat. My voice shook, and my fingers trembled as I tried to straighten it._

"_That, darling, __might be the least of our problems at the moment," he said. He sounded too much like his old self, and I raised my eyes to his face, a little puzzled. _

_He had indeed returned to his old Captain persona. His quick eyes narrowed scanned our surroundings – yes, he was back in control again. His worries seemed to dissolve visibly when he saw that, luckily, there was no one waiting for us. In fact, the patio looked unusually deserted. _

"_Where do you think everybody is?" I asked._

"_They must be busy with dinner by now. Frau Schmidt must be helping the children and Franz…" He looked at me then, and found me torturing my lower lip, nervously. "Don't to that," he said, softly and playfully, touching my lip with the tip of a finger._

_To be honest__, I was just beginning to feel a little… guilty. _

_I think they call it _Catholic guilt _nowadays _–_ so I've been told. Well, it was not my fault, I had brought up to be a nun, not a wife, and, least of all, a seductress. I was born to be guided and commanded, not to command and take charge of _anything_. "Maria, don't touch that, do this, don't climb that, go there, don't go there…" My first exercise in authority had been with my husband's seven children and it had worked beautifully. I was getting quite good at it, but other than that… I still needed a little coaxing from Georg when it came to letting go of a lifetime of inhibitions. _

_Georg never had, and never would have a similar problem. I was reminded of a line I had heard from one of his Navy friends before we were even married:_

"_Captain von Trapp? He is a typical submarine commander – a daredevil. Thinks he can walk on water!"_

_Georg no longer had his Navy, so he had to be a daredevil _somewhere_: the bedroom, or, this afternoon, in the unlikely environment of his own luxury car. Although… no coaxing was needed that afternoon – none at all… _

_The truth is I __don't know what came over me!_

_Maybe it was Peggy's words… No, I don't want to even think about that now. I already wasted too many pages of this poor journal grieving about that same subject. After what my dearest friend had said, I do not even want to think about the possibility that it might not be true, because honestly I don't know how to be able to bear another disappointment._

_No, not Peggy's words – Paris!_

_Maybe it was__ that, the rain and the isolation, bringing me back memories from our honeymoon. Memories of the night, after we went to that Rachmaninoff's concert… The night Georg showed me exactly what his perfect mouth and wicked tongue could do to me and where… Things that a former future nun would never have imagined a man would do to a woman…(1)_

_Oh, but I'm digressing again. I'll just say that for as long as I live, the first notes of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto n.o 2 will always have the power to literally set me on fire. It is not the kind of experience a woman ever forgets._

_Back to the car now. _

_The point is I lost control and I was overcome with a huge wave of love. I just wanted him, needed him – and acted upon it.__ I was only still insecure about what he would think of me for acting like that._

"_I never knew I could be quite so… adventurous. I'm sorry," I said, apologetically. His finger still caressed my lower lip._

"_Really?" he whispered softly. "Well, don´t be because I am not! Trust me, all this –" he looked down at both of us, meaningfully, "- this was worth it."_

"_Oh Captain, do be serious!" I exclaimed laughingly. _

_This is how it worked – one look, one word from him and my momentarily shattered confidence was fully recovered. I also found myself glowing with something that could only be described as… pure, undiluted, feminine pride! _

_Well, I had to be the first in _something_ with him, hadn't I? _

_I __had always been a firm believer in divine justice, and now, thanks to my wonderfully rational husband, _logic_. Georg had been the first in everything to me, and there had to be something that he had not done with any other before. I think I succeeded that afternoon, because, as hard as I tried, I could not picture him doing what we did - _in the car, in public -_, with any of the thirteen women he slept before me. _

_(__Just for the record: no matter what Georg says, I _still_ think thirteen is a very scandalous number, although my beloved can be very scandalous when he has his mind set upon it! Probably because I find the thought of doing the things we do together with thirteen men other than my husband absolutely repellent…)_

_I tried to bring us back to safer ground. _

"_I know better by now, I am sure this is not how you like you appear in public. In fact I think this is something unheard of for you… isn't it?"_

"_At least in the past two decades! Fortunately, there is no one around to witness it. We can just take the back entrance, sneak up to the bedroom clean up and change, and made ourselves presentable again in time for dinner. No one will ever know."_

_However, my husband, master and commander of the seven seas,__ would soon discover that there was a flaw in his seemingly perfect plan. Our luck was about to change._

_We__ were hastily making their way to the house, half way through the safety represented by one of the side doors, when the main door opened. Immediately, we stopped and gazed at each other uncertainly. Franz, looking as regal and irascible as ever, walked outside. _

_Oh dear, dear!_

"_The word you are looking for is _busted_, darling!" Georg whispered close to my ear. His grip on her hand tightened, so much that I flinched slightly. "Don't worry," he kept whispering to me, his lips hardly moving. "The key is to pretend that nothing is amiss. We'll be just fine."_

_That settled it. __My husband was telling me not to worry, then I would not. In fact, I _refused_ to worry at all. _

_Oh, but I hated to look down at people, like sometimes Georg did, if necessary. It was something that was almost second nature to him, but for me, something I had to learn, because sadly it was sometimes necessary in the running of a household as complex as the Trapp villa. Franz, however, practically _begged_ me to do it, so soon enough he became my target practice. As he scanned our appearance, from head to toe, I fired him my best imitation of the ominous von Trapp scowl. My conscience did not hurt the slightest when I had act like the lady of the manor looking down at a lowly vassal. Georg noticed my look, of course (in fact I had stolen it from him), and let out one of his sexy little chuckles._

"_I really must do something about __this man's insolence," he whispered. "Is there anything amiss, Franz?" he asked, raising his voice in an imposing tone designed to match Franz's impertinent gaze. Franz responded to just as Georg thought he would – he stuttered slightly when he answered the question, although his face remained inscrutable._

"_Erhm – certainly not."_

"_Then can you please tell us what you have in mind so that we can all _move on with our lives_?" Georg fired with the usual quick speech that used to scare me out of my wits in the old days – even though I would never ever admit that to anyone._

"_You have visitors, Captain… Baroness," Franz announced perfunctorily._

_Visitors!_

_Georg uttered __one of his old sailor's curses under his breath. Something rare for him, who had been brought with the idea that gentlemen did not curse – ever! I knew what he was thinking, I could almost guess the workings of his mind in moments like these. Mentally, he was scanning the list of all friends and relatives who would dare to commit the ultimate sin of arriving unannounced in his private domains. _

_He __pulled my hand, and brought me closer to him, placing the other one around my waist. The goal of the maneuver was obvious - there would still be time to walk around and use another entrance, but before we could even think of doing that, Max appeared at the door. _

"_Max Detweiler! What the devil are you doing here?"_

_Georg was not pleased with the situation,__ but he was relieved. The grip around my waist relaxed. It was _Max_, after all. That meant we would probably have to go through the usual friendly banter. In the end, things could have been so much worse! Still, my husband stepped sideways slightly, trying to hide as much of me as he could from the meddlesome impresario´s view, but it was already too late._

"_Well, well, well! Look at who managed to find their way back home in this ungodly weather," Max exclaimed, scratching his thin moustache. His small eyes narrowed as he slowly took in every detail of our dishevelment. "How have you been, Maria, darling?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, as if he were trying to see me behind Georges back._

"_Max," Georg gritted, threateningly, taking a step forward. "Don't you…"_

"_Marvelous!" I answered truthfully before my beloved could finish his warning, although nothing I could have said and done would remove the black scowl from his handsome face. _

_Considering what had happened in the car, undoubtedly __I did felt just like that. _

_Marvelous. _

_Wonderful._

_Splendid. _

_My body tingled in places only Georg __had ever reached. My husband had reduced me to that state which he frequently described to me as a "quivering mass of post orgasmic nerves" – or something like that.. My legs felt wobbly, I could hardly walk straight. I was uncomfortably sticky, wonderfully sore. But marvelous and splendid nonetheless. As much as I was sure he felt himself, deep inside, in spite of the awkward situation we found ourselves at the moment. That he could reduce me to such a state I already knew for some time. That I could do the same to that magnificent, beautiful man was still overwhelming to me._

_Georg broke into a genuinely satisfied smile, noting – not without a great deal of amusement – that Max was now rolling his eyes, and that Franz looked like he was about to have a fit._

"_It serves them well," I thought, with a smug smile of my own._

_The smile__s froze in our faces when a veritable reception committee walked unexpectedly out of the door, to see what the little commotion was all about: all of our seven children, followed by Frau Schmidt._

"_Father, mother! What happened?" asked Friedrich__. Following his cue, his six brothers and sisters started firing questions, simultaneously._

"_We were so worried!"_

"_We called Herr Schneider but you had already left hours ago!"_

_Georg __had to resort to one of his infallible cautionary glances to silence them. _

"_We are just fine, children. As you can see, we were hopelessly caught by the rain. We had to… uh… find shelter until the worst of it passed." Next he addressed the housekeeper, who was staring at us dumbfounded, her eyebrows raised. "That being the case, Frau Schmidt, we cannot risk ruining the floor or the carpets. We'll take the back entrance this time. Franz, please make sure that the door is unlocked for us, will you?"_

"_Certainly, Captain." The butler bowed and left, not without reluctance. I could not help but to let out a little sigh of relief. Naturally Georg knew that the other door was unlocked, but he wanted Franz's prying eyes away from them as soon as possible._

"_Max, do be charming and keep my children company while we change into… ehrm… dry clothes. We –" he glanced down at me. "As you can see, the rain was not kind to us at all."_

_Having said that, __we started walking again, towards the side of the house. Slowly, elegantly, coolly and as _aristocratically_ as we possibly could, although both of us wished we could just run. And again, we would have been saved by any further embarrassment if not for our extremely observant daughter Brigitta:_

"_But father… mother?"_

"_Yes, Brigitta?" Georg asked, stopping without turning back._

"_If you were caught by the rain, how is it that your clothes are not even wet?" _

_I do__ not remember what the answer he gave Brigitta, I just remember him taking my hand and dragging me behind him as fast as he possibly could. The next thing I remember was both of us laughing, feeling like partners in crime, when we closed the bedroom door behind them moments later._

"_Well, at least we solved one of our problems," he said buoyantly, leaning against the door. I looked at him, not sure what he meant, and he explained. "I am sure that by this time Franz is quite busy spreading the news. No one in Salzburg will ever believe you are still a virgin after this!" _

_I threw a pillow at him – he __most certainly deserved it!_

_I closed my eyes, while he laughed. _

_He _knew_! _

_Of course it had everything to do with me almost being a nun before we married. To my__ utter horror, I began to realize, as the months passed, that some people did not believe Georg and I ever shared a bed. Whenever I found myself in a gathering of women, and they would eventually start discussing more intimate subjects, I would often hear things like "Maria, cover your years," or "Oh, we should wait until Maria left to talk about this". It was infuriating. If they only knew how multiply and satisfyingly consummated my marriage was..._

_The wolfish grin in my sea captain's face was simply irresistible. The pillow hitting him squarely in the face was immediately avenged, when, slowly, he pulled out something from the breast pocked of his jacket – my missing knickers. He had them all the time._

"_Oh you _fiend_!"_

_He slowly walked towards me. Oh, I knew what he had in mind. My reign of feminine power was over – but only for a while._

_We were inexcusably late for dinner that night._

Georg von Trapp still smiled at the memory of the pleasant idyll with his wife while he was driving through in a very narrow country path, somewhere high in the Tyrolean Alps, in the remotest part of Austria. Undoubtedly the road was more appropriate for horses and other farm animals than to his automobile, but he was hardly concerned with the damage it could cause to the sophisticated, state-of-the-art vehicle.

He tried to return his attention to the task at hand – _driving_.

They had left the main highway hours ago, and ever since, he had been driving through smaller and smaller secondary roads, each one narrower and in worst condition than the one before. At times, he had to resort to the help of his inseparable compass, as he tried to read the map with the directions to Maria's farm, given to him by one of his solicitors. The problem as that the man, who was outstanding when it came to helping him with his business deals, did not have the slightest clue about how to draw a proper map. Once or twice, he almost believed himself to be lost, something that he found extremely irritating. After all, Captain von Trapp was _never_ lost, he could find his way anywhere, land or sea, most especially in his own country. He used to take pride in the fact that he knew his beloved homeland upside down and now he had to acknowledge that he was sailing uncharted waters. Lovely as it was at first glance, that particular part of Austria was unknown to him.

He gazed at Maria, letting out a low chuckle. If his wife was awake, she would surely be bickering with him about _almost_ getting lost, in spite of all his notorious expertise in navigation. He would retort that he was never actually lost, merely… _disoriented_. As much as he enjoyed the silence and the opportunity to be alone with his thoughts that came with it, he missed the sound of her voice, he missed the challenge that every little conversation represented, for she had a sharp wit and an unusual sense of humor that matched his own. It had been like that during the first half of their journey, which had began that morning, before the sun had even risen.

Maria was, however, fast asleep - she had been since they had stopped for a quick lunch. Now she was curled up against the passenger door, her face cushioned against her inseparable carpet bag – one item she brought with her from the convent she always refused to part with. Her lips were slightly parted, and her left hand rested comfortably in her stomach. In spite of the occasionally rough ride, she still did not wake up.

No wonder some people had started to think that their marriage had ever been consummated – looking at Maria in moments like these, he could hardly blame them for believing that. She looked more like a sleeping angel now than the siren who had seduced him in that same car, only two days before. He wondered how many times he would have to make love to her in so many different ways until she would finally loose that basic innocent look in her face…

"_Probably never,_" he concluded immediately. That was one of the things he always found irresistibly alluring about Maria, that exquisite mixture of innocence and womanliness. He felt an absurd wave of male pride when he thought that her passion was reserved for him, and only him, so much that others would hardly even glimpse that side of her.

There was a sudden jolt as the car hit a particularly nasty bump, more than enough to cause him to utter a sailor's curse and for Maria to finally wake up.

"Whaaaat? Where are we?" She blinked several times, looking adorably drowsy.

"Hallo," he said, looking quickly at her from underneath the brim of his hat, his own eyes gleaming with mirth. "I'm glad you decided to rejoin the world of the living!"

"Ooohhhh," was all she said, still dazzled, while scratching the top of her head. Her dark blond hair was not nearly as short now as it had been when he first met her, but it still had a mind of its own. In her muddled state, Maria did not seem to mind it at all. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he used the other to brush her rebel strands in place, ending with a swift caress on her soft cheek.

"Where are we" she repeated the question, stifling a yawn.

"Judging by the disgraceful map I was given, I think we cannot be far away." He found her staring at him, with an odd look in her face. Reluctantly, he removed his hand from her face and placed it back on the wheel. "Why, do you want the exact coordinates? Latitude and longitude?" he jested.

"Do you mean to tell me that you are _lost_, Captain von Trapp?"

"Maria, I am _never_…" he started, but she was already laughing.

"It's all right, you don't have to sulk about it" she dismissed, thus saving him from having to admit that not long ago he had indeed found himself… _misplaced _in his own country. But he was not _sulking_, was he? He was going to correct her obvious misapprehension when she was already speaking again. "The countryside is already familiar to me. Yes, we are close. I would not worry."

"I am not worried, darling, I am just cursing this blasted map!" he grumbled. He hated to sound so disgruntled, but the fact was that he was becoming weary. Fortunately, by now Maria was used to his volatile moods, at least enough not to be overly affected by them all the time.

"What time is it?" she asked softly, her left hand now kneading the sore muscles in the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension after so many hours of driving.

"Almost three in the afternoon. You've been asleep for nearly four hours."

"That long! I'm so sorry. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"O-ho, I couldn't do that to you. Considering the past few days, you needed the rest."

"Yes, but I could have helped you to… know where you were," she teased. Her fingers in his nape stilled and he nearly groaned in frustration. She got his message instantly, and resumed her gentle rubbing. "You know, I used to be able to find my way around these mountains with my eyes closed."

"_I was not lost_," he repeated emphatically. "I had my compass and you…" he looked at her again, and his exasperated expression immediately softened. "You were sleeping much too peacefully. I didn't have the heart to disturb you."

"Really? It didn't feel so peaceful to me. I had the strangest dream…" she yawned again.

"It was the drive," he shook his head. "How on earth were you able to sleep at all?"

"I must have been more tired than I realized."

"Quite frankly, I was not expecting to find roads in such terrible conditions," he continued. "More than enough for a nightmare or two!"

"It wasn't a nightmare. Just an _unusual _was telling me to…" Her eyes widened, and it seemed that only at that moment she was finally – and literally - wide awake. She sat up, her spine straight. Her left hand flew from his neck and joined the other one, clutching her chest.

"Oh dear. I forgot something."

"What is it?"

"Something very, _very_ important." He was about to start telling her than unfortunately it was too late to return to Aigen now, but kept talking to herself, the words coming out of her mouth before she could control them. At the same time, she fumbled furiously with the contents of her old carpetbag.

"How could I have been such a _nitwit_!" she exclaimed loudly, only that she was angry at herself, not him, this time.

"What are you fussing about, darling? And why are you belittling yourself like that?"

"Ahem… I am looking for my journal," she said, the sound of her voice slightly muffled because her head was practically inside the bag.

"Is that the very, very important thing you left behind?"

"Not _left behind_ - _forgot_," was the blunt reply. "No, it is not that."

"Don't tell me you are able to write while I drive us through the coarsest road in all of Austria," he said humorously.

"I'm not going to write, I am going to _read_. Here it is," she cried triumphantly, pulling out a thick black book from her bag.

Georg had known for a long time that she had the habit of keeping a journal. They were certainly not like his own journals, the one he was obliged to keep when he was in the Navy, meant to be a precise recording of events. Maria's diaries, not unlike everything else about her, were one of a kind. Rather than a simple narration of daily facts, apparently, Maria wrote about everything and anything that was in her mind at the moment, in no particular order. The pages were full of cryptic notes, sketches, drawings, dried flowers and leaves, scraps she cut from newspapers and magazines. She also kept the little notes he occasionally left her, as well as notes and drawings from the children. As chaotic and disorganized they were, he firmly believed that if Maria's journeys survived a few centuries, he was sure they would be a colorful source of information for any scholar doing research about the life in an aristocratic home in Austria in the late 1930´s.

In her early days in his house, he would frequently find her sitting by the lake with one of her notebooks in her lap. One particular occasion was memorable to him - during the short time he had been watching her that day, she broke the tips of two pencils. Both poor innocent victims were thrown in the lake. Since they'd had one of their notorious arguments only one hour earlier, he had an inkling that it was precisely what she was writing about.

"May I ask what you were writing with such passionate fury, Fräulein?" She had been so startled by his sudden appearance that she broke yet another pencil – she had looked at the small broken object so angrily that for a moment he believed it was going to catch fire in her hand. "I am sure your poor pencils do not deserve such terrible mistreatment. There just may not be enough trees in Austria to supply the demand," he finished with a chuckle.

Maria looked at him like she wanted to wipe the smirk off his face, or worse. Having heard that, she threw the third pencil on the water, then closed the journal angrily and noisily – but not before his quick eyes could see what she had written in huge, red, capital letters:

"_CAPT. V. TRAPP = UNREASONABLE LOUT."_

"I see," he purred, mockingly. "I couldn't help but being curious about what kind of words a postulant would use to describe our – uh - _disagreement_." To call their earlier argument a _disagreement_ had been a gross understatement of his part, but he did so on purpose – the temptation to provoke her temper was practically impossible to resist in those days. "You called me an arrogant snob in our last argument, and that was _much_ more insulting. _Unreasonable lout –_ was that the worst you could do this time… Fräulein?"

With an outraged moan, she stood up to face him, balancing herself on her tiptoes to try to be in the same eye level with him. He knew that stance rather well by now – she was getting ready for battle, to kick him where it hurt.

And she did.

Her quick answer would take him aback for a few seconds, but he wouldn't know how strongly it would be imbedded in his brain until a few weeks later, when he would resort to a similar phrase to defend himself against one of Herr Zeller´s verbal attacks.

"I was under the impression, _Captain von Trapp_, that the contents of a lady's journal in Austria were _private_."

"Fräulein…" He meant to apologize for the inexcusable intrusion in her privacy, but she never let him.

"I write about _everything_," she informed him flatly, still holding her stubborn chin up. "_But –_ and this may come as an enormous shock, Captain - not everything that happens in this house is about _you_!" Her eyes shot daggers at him.

Later, he tried in vain to convince himself that he had walked away from her that day because he did not wish to join the three pencils floating in the lake, for it looked like that was exactly what the little Fräulein wanted to do to him: to grab him by the neck and throw him in the icy cold water. What he had wanted to do, in fact – what he _ached_ to do – was to grab her instead, and kiss some sense into her, not to mention to give her a lesson in passion, worthy of being in the lively, wonderfully chaotic pages of her journal.

With a little smug smile in his face, he wondered if nowadays she indeed wrote _everything_. He wondered if she wrote about what happened during their car ride back to Aigen, after they left the Schneider's the other day…

His pleasant reveries were distracting him for the road once more, and the car swayed slightly. He cursed under his breath, recovering control and stole a quick glance to his right. Maria was blessedly oblivious of his musings. She had one of her intriguing frowns in her face, and was turning the pages of her journal back and forward.

"Are you perchance following Oscar Wilde´s good advice?" he asked her jokingly. "_I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train_," he quoted (2).

"No, not exactly," Maria giggled. Her eyes twinkled – he sensed that it meant she was about to tease him back. "In case you haven't noticed, we are in a car, not a train, because if you had noticed you would be keeping your eyes and your thoughts on the road instead of…"

"… entertaining lustful thoughts about my wife?"

"That was most definitely not what I was going to say," she protested, her cheeks turning to a bright pink. "Although you do have _that look_ in your face."

"What look?"

"You know very well! Your eyes are darker, and I know exactly what you are thinking about when that happens."

"Well, I admit, it is true! I just could not help remembering what I did to you the last time we were together alone in this same car… or should I say, what _you_ did to me," he turned to her and winked.

Maria flushed hotly and uttered a little shocked moan. "Captain! When you put your mind into it, you certainly can be a shameless..."

"Is that what you were looking for in your diary?" he continued taunting her, his voice low and seductive. "Because it would undoubtedly qualify as "_something sensational to read"_…"

"Of course not! That is, it was not what I was looking for."

"Ah hah! So you _did_ write about it!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Oowww, you do be quiet. As I told you countless times before, not everything I write in these pages is about extremely conceited sea captains. I am just looking for some old notes, but I don't remember when or where I made them. I really should be more organized about this… Of course it would help if I only added the _date_ to my entries once in a while!"

"You don't date your entries?" Georg raised his eyebrows, surprised.

"I don't know why you sound so surprised. Unlike you in your Navy journals, I am not trying to record history for posterity." Maria shook her head. "I only write about little things that are meaningful to me and dates never had much importance... Well, except maybe for birthdays, anniversaries…" She stopped abruptly. "Liesl´s birthday was February 15th…"

It was a statement, not a question. His wife was doing a little math, whispering and using her fingers to help her. At the same time, she tried her best to add the missing dates in some of her old entries.

"Yes – the 15th."

Georg was fully conscious that he was sporting an absurdly boyish grin in his face – he had figured out _exactly_ what she was doing. It was only too obvious. He knew now why she had called herself a _nitwit_ moments ago, because, in spite of his glee, he wished to call himself even worse names. With a mind as sharp as his own, he did not doubt for a minute that in would only be another minute until she reached the same conclusion he had before the drive was over and if she was going to tell him about it.

"We went to Kitzbühel the week after that, so that would be…"

"February 23rd," he provided the answer as evenly as he could.

"Yes. Thank you!"

Maria had her full attention back to her journal after that, turning the pages back and forth more frantically than before. He could tell the exact instant when she found the answer. Her jaw simply dropped open. She was… dumbstruck.

It had been a memorable weekend: the first time Agathe´s parents had invited he, Maria and the children to spend a few days in their chalet in that charming ski resort. The children had the time of their lives, the eldest ones being reacquainted with skiing, something they had not done since their mother died. As for Maria, instead of frolicking in the snow, she spent the first day and a half inside their room, wrapped in blankets and in the company of bottles of warm water. Not because she was cold, not because she was shy, because she felt unwelcome or because she was sulking. What made her feel so miserable was, in her own words, the worst case of cramps she ever had in her life. To his recollection, that was the last time she'd had her monthly flow.

Exactly _35 days ago_…

His smile broadened.

The possibility that she was pregnant slowly became an absolute certainty in his mind ever since Peggy had mentioned it, but until now he did not have an objective reason to believe it. He was a man of reason above all, he needed the scientific evidence. The question was – why on earth hadn't they thought about it before? Why hadn't he realized it? He had been too busy preparing the details of their trip, and making sure the children would be well looked after while they were gone. This was no excuse to him, however. _He_ should have realized it before. Seven children – and he still had been oblivious to the first, the most obvious sign that a woman was pregnant!

Maria was looking at him, awe etched all over her face. He hit the brakes of the car, instinctively.

"Georg, I think…"

"I know," he said almost at the same time. "Yes, my love, _I know_."

"You do? Why didn't you tell me before?" she sounded a bit disgruntled – not entirely without reason.

"Simply because I realized it only seconds before you did. Maria…"

"Yes?"

"Why don't we wait until we get there, until we are comfortably settled, so that we both can think straight." He raked his fingers through his hair – a nervous gesture. "We'll… do the math and we can figure this out together."

"All right - it is probably a very good idea, but… Why did you stop?" she asked him, suspiciously. "And why are you smiling like the Cheshire cat again?"

"I need to check the directions given to me by my solicitor in this ridiculous scrap of paper he calls a map," he said, clearing his throat and trying to disguise what he was feeling, something he could only describe as pure, unadulterated _bliss_.

"Georg…" Maria's tone was censorious and her look to him was one of pure skepticism.

He kept a nonchalant look in his face and teased her further. "Why else would I stop now, darling? We are not running out of gas yet, and besides – _it is not even raining_!" He smirked. That earned him a playful slap in the shoulder.

"Seriously, darling," he continued. "There is a crossing right ahead of us and I am not sure which way we should turn."

It seemed to him that only then she was fully conscious of how close they were to her home. She stared at the road ahead.

"_Dear Lord, I'm here!_" she whispered. "I had not realized we were so close. I thought I would never return and… well, here I am."

"Never? You vowed _never_ to return here?" he prodded.

"No, I did not _vow_ I would not come back. I was supposed to be a cloistered nun by now, remember?" It was indeed one very logical reason, and her honest reply gave him a great deal of relief. "Turn _right,_" she exclaimed abruptly, for they are about to reach the intersection. "Just… drive until you reach the village, then take the road that begins behind the church. We are not far away now."

No – not far away!

_A/N: __(1) "Variations on a theme". (2) Oscar Wilde, "The Importance of Being Earnest". _


	3. Chapter 3

**There must have been a moment of truth**

**Chapter I****II**

_**A/N**__**: This is the last one I have for the moment, for this story in particular. I am hoping to continue it one day, when I feel inspired. I have a few ideas already, but nothing very exciting yet. Meanwhile - enjoy it!**_

_**Disclaimer: See previous chapters.**_

_**ooo**_

**_Put out my eyes, and I can see you still,_**

**_Slam my ears to, and I can hear you yet;_**

**_And without any feet can go to you;_**

**_And tongueless, I can conjure you at will._**

**_Break off my arms, I shall take hold of you_**

**_And grasp you with my heart as with a hand;_**

**_Arrest my heart, my brain will beat as true;_**

**_And if you set this brain of mine afire,_**

**_Then on my blood-stream I yet will carry you._**

**_Rainer Maria Rilke_**

**_ooo_**

_**Necessity urges desperate measures.**_

_**Miguel de Cervantes**_

_**ooo**_

_**He thinks too much**__**: such men are dangerous.**_

_**William Shakespeare – Julius Caesar**_

_**ooo**_

"_We are not far away now…"_

The only minor trouble was that it seemed that Maria's idea of what was close and what was far away differed from his own by a great deal. To his wife, _"not far away"_ meant several miles of a dangerous drive up the narrowest mountain road he had ever seen in his life. The steep ascent ended abruptly and they still had to walk quite a distance to reach their destination.

"_Well, at least one cannot say this place isn't isolated!_"

Grimly, he wondered if even the remotest corner of the world could be considered _safe_ if the Nazis succeeded in their threats and the Anschluss became a reality. Nevertheless, his family would be protected here, at least for a while, until he could figure out what to do, where to go. Yes, his seven children would be safe, at least for a while… but what about Maria and the baby?

_Maria was carrying his child. _

He felt overwhelmed with joy and wondered how he could possibly love Maria more than he already did, but he was also worried. He did not remember feeling this awful sense of foreboding before, even during Agathe´s first pregnancy, when they both had been so young and everything was new and neither of them knew what to expect.

The strategist that he was immediately concluded that, in case they had to flee, he would have to be prepared to do much more than just escaping the Nazis!

He tried to focus on the positive aspects first. Under normal circumstances, there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Agathe had always been frail and not exactly healthy, but she had given him seven children, and except for that one single miscarriage, which explained the three year gap between Kurt and Marta, there had been no complications at all. Maria, on the other hand, was strong and had not been seriously ill one single day in her life. Dr. Thürmann, who had examined her just once, shortly after they returned from Paris, had told them that some women were simply made to have babies, and that she was one of them.

The only problem was that, in the dark times looming over the horizon, there were no such things as "_normal circumstances_".

The reality he was forced to consider, whether he wanted it or not, was that Maria would give birth in the middle of the winter. The very isolation that was supposed to keep Hitler's soldiers from reaching them might become a curse if there was only the slightest complication. There was a growing probability that when the time came, they would not be in Salzburg or Vienna, surrounded by the best medical care he could possibly provide her and the baby, but here, in an mountain farm that was probably virtually inaccessible during wintertime. He doubted there was even a doctor in the tiny alpine village they had just passed. Even if there was one, he could be totally useless, considering the distance from the village to the farm, and the bad conditions of the roads.

What he wanted – and needed – to consider at the moment was what to do in order to avoid the worst possible scenario. It was, after all, one thing he could do and remarkably well. In fact, he had been awarded the most coveted medals of honor for doing just that.

Maria and the baby would be just fine. All of his children would be safe; he would make sure of it. No matter what he had to do.

Banishing the dark thoughts, he focused her attention in their surroundings once more.

A small lake – much smaller than the one that bordered their property in Aigen – reflected the skies and the mountains like a perfect mirror. Because of the high altitude, there was very little vegetation, but that only helped to make the landscape more striking. In the distance, an old barn and a small house not far away from it could be seen. Both buildings were nearly in ruins.

He mentally congratulated himself for making the decision to bring some basic camping gear with them. When he closed the deal, he had arranged that the house was properly cleaned, and aired, but now, looking at it, on the outside, it still looked inhabitable. He was told that there was very little furniture left, because the creditors of Maria's late uncle had taken away everything that had any value. Miraculously, the plumbing still worked – so he was told. In any case, he would have to make a list of everything that needed urgent repair, before bringing his entire family, including a very pregnant wife, to live here.

Blessedly oblivious of the direction of his thoughts, Maria was walking a few steps ahead of him, and sat on a rock by the lake, to catch her breath. She did not tear her gaze away from the run down farmhouse in the opposite margin. As much as he was tempted to interrupt her, he did not.

Her moment of solitude was brief. She turned around and saw him watching her. Smiling, she extended her hand, silently calling him to her side. He joined her by the pond, entwining his fingers with hers.

"Do you mind if we sit here for a bit before we see the house? I just want to savor it for a moment. It's been so long!"

"Certainly not, darling. I would like to do the same myself. This is absolutely beautiful, I had no idea."

"It's my mountain, Captain!" she announced proudly, turning to look around her, her arms open wide.

"Indeed it is! I can't help but remember something you told me, a very long time ago, one of those times when I inappropriately questioned your vocation."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "What did I say?"

"You said that you would not mind living in seclusion for the rest of your life because you had grown up in isolation. I just had no idea how… true that was. I always prided myself in knowing every little corner of Austria, but I have never been anywhere near here before."

"Never?" she sounded surprised.

He shook his head. "No, I am sure I haven't. If I had, I would probably choose to live here instead of Salzburg after we had to leave Pola after the war."

"Ooh, no, you would not! I don't believe that for a second!" she exclaimed, laughingly. "You would not stand being so far away from everything – your friends, your horses, your music, the concerts. And the sea is even farther away from here than it is from Aigen. I hate to tell you, but this -," she pointed to the pond, "- this is by far the largest amount of water in one place that we have in these parts. You see - not one single sea captain in sight!"

"Mmmm… No wonder you had some appalling misconceptions about the men who server in our glorious Navy!" he smirked. "And no wonder your nautical skills are simply dreadful."

"Well, they would have improved by now if a certain husband of mine would take me sailing more often," she pouted.

There was a light breeze, and it was almost like Maria's mood shifted with it. She became very serious and lowered her eyes.

"It is so far away from everything you know and love, and you still bought it for me." He opened his mouth to correct her, but she did not let him speak. "Oh, I know it was not only because of _me_, I know how convenient this place can be for us if they want you for Hitler's Navy and we have to run away. But I also know I was awful to you when you told me what you had done. I don't know what came over me that day, I hadn't lost control like that in years. I do feel very silly now."

Silence reigned after that. It was inevitable for both of them _not_ to think about their awful quarrel of weeks earlier. He sat next to her, on the rock. Bringing her close, he rested his chin on her temple.

"_I don't need _you_!_" Maria had yelled the last words at him that day, in the heat of the moment. So unexpectedly, so loudly that he felt like he was being hit by one of his torpedoes.

"_She doesn't need me,_" he had thought repeatedly, trying to make sense of what she had just said.

Oh yes, the words had angered him beyond belief. They hit him as being entirely unfair. He had never heard such a thing from anyone before in his life, not even from his formidable father during one of their equally formidable arguments. It hurt like hell and he did not like them, did not deserve them. The fact that the words were spoken in anger was not enough to lessen their effect.

He would have lashed out at her immediately, he would have shouted back with equal force, matching her anger with his own, just like he had done that first time she confronted him by the lake. Something made him stop at the very last moment. A flicker in her eyes when she had screamed the words at him…

He had seen Maria enraged before, countless times, before and after their marriage, but it was always mingled with a great deal of passion. This time, the very nature of Maria's anger was different. It was not an outlet for her confused feelings about him or about what he made her feel.

No, it wasn't just _bickering_.

It was pure, undiluted anger, and it had nothing to do with her love or the passion for him. He did not have a clue about how to deal with this newly discovered aspect of Maria's personality. It was when he had made the first of a series of small tactical errors – he had tried the same old approach he used to deal with her passionate anger before. The same weapon he used to confront such heated states of mind before – his refined irony, tempered with a good dose of his own barely repressed anger.

_"O-ho, I think you do, Maria,__" _he had said softly, leaning closer to her, so that their bodies almost touched.

It had not worked. She had responded to his old brand of seductive sarcasm with a little outraged moan.

_"__No, I do not!"_

"_Yes, you do. You must acknowledge that you do have a few needs, Maria, and that _I _can supply them!"_

He did not believe he had ever behaved like the arrogant male quite like that before. Not with any other woman, and most certainly not with Maria. But instead of calling him a conceited brute, like she had done if before, she had tried to match his derisive remark.

"_Of course I have a few needs," _she had replied bitingly, mimicking his tone of voice. _"You may find it shocking, but I was always able to supply them all on my own, without any help from you or anyone else. None at all."_

"_Hah! Please, do enlighten me about those _needs_ of yours!"_

"_With pleasure! What I need is to sleep a good number of hours each night to be able to function properly the next day causing just the minimum amount of chaos in the household. I need a daily bath because I hate to feel dirty. What I need are three nutritious meals and at least half an hour of exercise to have enough energy to… to…."_

His wicked grin had infuriated her beyond belief.

"_When have I ever needed _you_ for anything?"_ she shouted.

He had not answered at first. She had done it again, she had kicked him where it hurt, and this time it hurt more because he was not expecting to feel any more pain at all. After the past few months living in a near perfect state of married bliss, he had forgotten how easily, how effectively, Maria was able to do that. His mind went back further in time, to Elsa's words, just after he had broken their engagement.

"_No, don't. Don't say another word, Georg, please. You see, there are other things I've been thinking of. Fond as I am of you, I really don't think you're the right man for me. You're much too independent and I need someone who needs me desperately. Or at least, needs my money desperately," she had said._

Unlike Elsa, he never believed himself to be the kind of man who needed a woman who "_needed him desperately_", as his former fiancée had put it. The truth was that he had never stopped to think about it, until Maria yelled those words at him.

_Agathe had needed him. _

_Desperately._

She had always been delicate, not only physically. Her innate frailness had been one of the many things that had drawn him to her at first. It had never been her fault, of course, and he had to acknowledge that, even in her weakness, Agathe could be impossibly strong when she had to… at least in the surface. It had been like that in few days before her death, when they knew the end was inevitable. Or very early in their marriage, whenever he had to leave for the sea during wartime, never sure if he would ever be able return to his family again, dead or alive. However, other than that, his first wife had been brought up to have a husband to rely on, and to take care of her and their children. From the cradle, she was educated to be a wife a seaman, with all the hardships that came with it, like her mother and grandmother before her, like his own mother and grandmother before him. But she never had to survive out in the world entirely on her own.

_Maria had. _

Now that they were settled in their married life, he had to acknowledge the fact that his wife did not need him, at least not in the same way Agathe ever did. She never made any secret of the fact that she had always taken care of herself. It had been Maria who had made all important decisions in her life – to study in that progressive school in Vienna, to leave her foster parents to enter a convent, and ultimately, to give up a religious live in order marry him. Once she had told him briefly that before Nonnberg, she never had to ask for permission to do anything. No wonder she had rebelled, first against the nun's authority, and then against his.

And yet he had dared to search into her past without her knowledge… He dared to buy her old home, with all the memories attached to it – good or bad – without even consulting her first.

He ought to be keelhauled! Although keelhauling would be a minor punishing, compared to the hell he had to go through during those days following their argument, when they had barely spoken to each other.

Now he was given the chance to turn a dark memory into a happier one. One precious opportunity he was not about to waste.

"Yes, I remember the full list of your basic _needs_," he smiled softly. "A daily bath, three nutritious meals and half an hour exercise every day to keep up with me and my lusty male demands!"

"I don't recall mentioning any _lusty demands_ that day," Maria retorted mischievously. "I was too angry to have that in mind."

It was more than enough to encourage him to continue teasing her.

"I am sure you did mention it at some point. The problem is that half an hour is _nothing_, darling. I would recommend a minimum of two or three, whenever possible."

"_Two or three_?" She squinted. "Isn't that too much?"

"It depends on what kind of physical activity you had in mind," he purred. "Although it _is_ paradoxical that the kind of exercise I am suggesting is precisely the kind you would be exercising for…" He scratched his head, the shrugged. "It doesn't make sense, does it?"

"Oh Captain, sometimes you think too much!" she nudged him playfully. She had hit another mark, of course.

Yes, he _did_ think too much at times. Maybe he should not do that, not in moments like this. He should do that more often – let his guard down and just enjoy what Maria had to offer him.

He was not always like that, not where his personal life was concerned. It had been the premature loss of his first wife that had thought him not to take anything for granted. His natural response had been not only to start acting like the Naval Captain all the time, running his house like a ship, but also think like one as well, considering every possibility, every strategy in order to avoid being surprised by the enemy: death, sorrow, grief, or simply his memories.

Maria was speaking again, her voice low and husky.

"But _three hours?_ Really?"

The sweet little minx was provoking him now.

"O-ho, I will be more than glad to supply you with a demonstration one of these days." She giggled and he kissed the top of her head, before hugging her closer. "Seriously, darling, you had your reasons to say what you did that day and I more than deserved to hear some of the things you threw at me."

"You did not deserve to hear that I don't need you," she sighed deeply. "It was awful of me to say that to _you,_ of all people. That is not entirely true."

"I know. But that it is not entirely _untrue_ either." He raised his eyes heavenward for a moment, feeling Maria, next to him, tense while she waited for his explanation. "You were - no, you still are – quite a challenge to a man born and raised to command everyone around him, a man unused to having his authority questioned. You are amazingly strong, wonderfully uncomplicated, fiercely independent…"

"Agathe was different, was she?"

His short intake of breath was audible. He could tell that Maria was fully aware of his reaction, because she was biting her lips as she watched him carefully.

Agathe´s memory still hung like a shadow between them after all those months. He knew his wife still struggled with it. _He_ still struggled with it at times. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself of the opposite, because hearing her name on Maria's lips always came a little shock to him.

It was Maria who spoke first, when he was still trying to find the right words to say.

"Sometimes I don't know how she was able to bear it whenever you went out to sea for months, never knowing if she would ever see you again. You keep saying I am stronger, I _screamed_ that I didn't need you. But how on earth I don't need you when I cannot bear the thought of being apart from you?"

Her words hit him with stunning force.

Agathe had never _dared_ to make that kind of admission to him. He had no idea how he would have reacted if she ever did – probably not in a pleasant manner. They both knew he had a duty to fulfill, towards his country, and in those times that had to come before anything else, including her and the children. He knew she felt that way, because he did not feel any different. The last time it happened was decades ago now, but the sight of her face as his U-boat was leaving port was one of the saddest things he had ever seen. Yet, she had been taught to be strong and to give him strength. She had been taught not to show weakness, and just stand there, waving at him proudly, when every instinct told her to dive into the water and swim after his submarine.

"_Maria would probably do just that, without a second thought,"_ he thought with a smile. What made her strong was that she seemed completely unafraid to show her weaknesses, he realized.

"You would if you had to, darling. I am sure of it," he tried to reassure her.

Quickly, she turned her gaze away.

"Doesn't this place make you wonder… How can anything bad ever happen here?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly. "How could anyone not be happy?"

"Yes. I think beautiful places generally have that effect on people."

It happened then, just as he thought it would. Maria was finally speaking of her past. He did not have to ask her any more, direct or veiled questions. He held his breath, feeling that the balance was so fragile that one look, one wrong word from him could only make her close herself again. The words just began pouring out of her as he listened, fascinated, fully aware that in that moment, other than the child growing in her womb, it was the most precious gift that she could give him.

"I lived in that house for more than ten years. I never left, except for those two years I spend in Vienna. They were not the happiest years of my life by far, but I wasn't _always_ miserable. I taught myself how to be happy, how to find joy in small things. The mountains, singing… climbing trees," she nudged him. "I was never hungry or cold. I was just… a little lonely sometimes, that is all. I don't know what might have given you the idea that something really awful happened to me."

"Not what – _who_. That was you. _You_ gave me that idea, Maria, when you closed yourself like an oyster whenever I asked you what you about your childhood."

"I never felt there was anything worth telling, that is all. There is that, and also because in spite of my rather uneventful life, my upbringing was a little –" she rolled her eyes, "- _unconventional_. I was afraid you would find it _shocking_."

"_Shocking_?" he sounded incredulous, even to his own ears. "Darling, ever since you screamed your head off at the dinner table after sitting on that pine cone, there is little or nothing about you that shocks me."

She eyed him defiantly.

"Pray tell me, Captain von Trapp: What would you have done if you were told before I came to your house that the Reverend Mother was sending you a postulant who had been raised by a couple of _anarchists_ to discipline your seven children (1)."

He could not help but raise his eyebrows at her.

"Anarchists?"

"Oh, I don't know if that is the proper term at all. Uncle Franz would certainly sneer if he heard me calling him an anarchist, but he and my aunt did have a very peculiar way of thinking. He used to be a professor at a University in Vienna until the day he decided he wanted to leave everything behind and live here, away from everything he and his wife despised. They were not revolutionaries, willing to bear weapons to fight and die for what they believed – or did _not_ believe. As I said – _unconventional_! In fact, I was a little bit of an agnostic myself until just after my fourteenth birthday… There! You see?"

"What?"

"The look in your face. That is one of the reasons why I avoided telling you all this before. I just told my husband, one of Austria's greatest war heroes, decorated by Emperor Franz Joseph II himself that I was raised by two anarchists. I did not want you or your family looking deeply into my past because I was not sure what kind of conclusions you would be drawing from it. An anarchist killed our lovely Empress Sissi…"

"Yes, but he was not your uncle! I'm just… bemused, that is all. Maria, how the devil did a couple of such eccentrics managed to raise a girl who, during most of her life, wanted nothing else but to become a cloistered nun?"

"It's a very long and complicated story." She smiled.

"You could begin by telling my why you had to teach yourself to be happy, for instance," he suggested

Her lips curled into one of her mischievous little smiles he knew so well.

"That was easy. I had the Paultraxls! (2)"

"The _Pautraxls_?"

"Mm mm. And their very good friend, Frau Erbinger."

"Who were they and what kind of a name is _Pautraxl_?" he asked, amused.

"They were the nicest, sweetest couple, and they had five adorable children – three boys and two girls. I am afraid you parked the car right in the middle of their lovely orchard!" He turned his head for a quick glance to their car down the road, and frowned. There was no sign of an orchard ever being there. Looking back at Maria, he found her grinning at him. "I invented them, of course. They were my imaginary friends, and they behaved just like I imagined a perfectly normal family would."

She looked down at her wriggling hands.

"I never had a normal family – that much you know about me already. So, I created one in my mind, to imagine what would be like. My aunt and uncle – may they rest in peace – may have had the best intentions in mind, but, you see, some people are just not made to take care of a child… Like Baroness Schraeder, for instance. I know now that she is a remarkable woman who is bound to make a man insanely happy one of these days, but I could never imagine her cuddling a little girl?"

"Frankly, darling, neither could I!" he chuckled. "Although in her defense I must say that she was never given a fair chance."

"I know that much too. My aunt and uncle were a little bit like that, in their own way."

"When did you come to live with them?"

"Just after my father died – I was five. Before that we lived on the village we passed by on our way here. I was so… frighteningly young. They used to say that I would never be alone in the world and that if I were a good girl, I would be just fine… And indeed I was. Except that I _wasn't_ a very good girl," she laughed. "Still, in spite of it all, looking back now, I think I came very close to having a life every child could possibly dream of."

"How so?"

"There were not a lot of rules to follow. I was supposed to help them with the farm, but that was all. Of course I took full advantage of it. I was a wild child who could do whatever I wanted, go whatever I wished – no other boy or girl my age had that kind of freedom."

"And you still managed to subvert those few rules, didn't you?" He chuckled.

"More often than not!"

"How on earth did you end up in Nonnberg Abbey?"

She pointed to one of the mountains surrounding them.

"On the other side of the hill, there was a convent, dedicated to St. Catherine. I wonder if it is still there nowadays. I used to run down that mountain, climb a tree and watch the nuns work and sing in the patio. The first two times they caught me doing that, they were very angry. The third time it happened, one or two of them actually smiled at me. One day they invited me inside, and offered me tea and cake. They grew the most beautiful roses, and I used to bring seedlings from my aunt's garden to give to them. Soon I began to attend masses in their chapel, at first only to hear them sing. It would be years before I actually _listened_ to what was being said, but when I did, I realized that it could be a life meant for me. It could bring me everything that was missing. Something to believe and the closest thing to a family I could ever imagine."

"What did your foster parents think about that?"

"They didn't like it, of course. Had I announced that I was leaving the farm to join the circus they would be less shocked. A religious life was just the opposite of everything they held sacred. At first they punished me whenever they discovered that was where I had been, but the worst was when I told them I wanted to be like those women. That happened about a week after I completed my studies in Vienna. Never before they had questioned any of my beliefs or lack of them, but this – choosing to become a nun – was, to them, the ultimate act of rebellion. We had an ugly confrontation that evening, and I left at dawn the next day. I took – oh, I am not proud of it at all – but I knew where my uncle kept his money, and I took just enough for a train ticket to Salzburg. I think you know the rest of the story. I never saw them again."

She took a long pause, as if searching for the right words to continue.

"I know that they died within weeks of each other, two years after I had left. When that happened, one of the good nuns from St. Catherine's came to Nonnberg to give me the news. She told me a lot of things I did not know. My uncle was – oh well, not a very nice man, and _not_ because he was an atheist. She told me could have hurt me very badly if he wanted to, but that I should pray for his soul, pray so that God would forgive him for his sins…"

There was a long, torturing pause before she continued.

"It was that stain in his past and not his beliefs, was the real reason why he and my aunt left Vienna to hide themselves from the world here. He did some terrible things… but not to me," she added quickly, as soon as she saw Georg´s alarmed look. "Never to me," she smiled. He was able to breathe again, but only briefly. "In the end, I may have caused him more pain than he ever caused me."

"By leaving him and your aunt because you chose to be a nun?"

She shook her head.

"One day, when I was twelve years old, I simply disappeared. It was not something I had never done before, but it was enough to make Uncle Franz completely loose whatever was left of his patience with me. He found me in the barn," she pointed to the other building, not far from the house. "Of course I wasn't supposed to be there in the first place," she swallowed. "Oh, he might just want to give me a good smack me for running to see the nuns again. When he came in my direction I grabbed the first thing I could. It was a very ugly looking pitchfork…" She looked at him steadily for a moment, as if studying his face and trying to guess what his reaction was.

"That must have been..."

"… painful. Ugly too. He carried scars for the rest of his life, and after that he never came near me again. He avoided me like the plague, saying I was a wicked, evil child for attacking him like that."

"You just defended yourself. You were a child who reacted instinctively against danger."

"No, I _attacked_ him before he could to anything to me. Whatever it was that he intended to do, after that it was like I did not exist for them anymore after that. I was properly fed and clothed, but that was all I would receive. I was never punished again, but I was not praised either. They just left me alone to do as I pleased, and except for when I told them I was going to enter a convent, they never acted like they really cared about what I did or did not do."

It explained so much… everything! Why she referred to her childhood as being wicked, and to her youth as being miserable more than once. Why she clang to the affection offered by the nuns with such force that she confused it with a religious vocation.

She turned him, and look in her eyes was peaceful, serene.

"As a very wise sea captain said once, standing next to the grave of his first wife: _it is just a place, she is not there anymore_ (3)! I just need to believe that there is nothing there anymore."

"There isn't, Maria. I am sure of it now."

"Peggy was right, wasn't she?" she asked, abruptly.

"Undoubtedly she was – the old witch!"

He braced himself to hear the confirmation of what they both already knew.

"Captain von Trapp, I think we are going to have a baby!"

_A/N: __(1) In the case of the real Maria, they were socialists (see her book, "Maria"). I am taking a little liberty with the fictional character. (2) There is a reference to the imaginary Pautraxl family in Maria's book, "Maria". (3) There is a slight reference to this in "The 12__th__ Governess"._


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